


Hollow Bread

by hanihyunsu



Series: Your November Chance of Candies [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adulthood, America/England Feels (Hetalia), Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brothers, Bittersweet Ending, Bread, Brotherly Angst, Brothers, Brothers America & Canada (Hetalia), Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Candy, Character Death, Children, Death, Dreams, Dysfunctional Family, Endgame, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Drama, Family Feels, Flashbacks, Food, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Future, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Mentioned Portugal (Hetalia), Minor England/France (Hetalia), Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Plans For The Future, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Team Dynamics, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19403476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanihyunsu/pseuds/hanihyunsu
Summary: Antonio never had a dream.Up until he met a bunch of idiots with dreams clearly written in their eyes.Here's to Alfred, who loved to eat my family's paella.Here's to Arthur, who is actually the one who taught me how to make fruit tarts in cooking class in highschool.Here's to Francis, who encouraged me in everything I could possibly want in life in the sweetest way possible on the history of candy.Here's to Natalya, who cared more about us than we care about ourselves.Here's to Matthew who's patience, tolerance and love outweighs all sugar in the world combined.And Gilbert who, despite every obstacle he encounters, always stood up and sweetly smiles and comes by.They were just like candy. Sweet, little cute entities of sugar with a hint of sharpness and danger. Some people may be born to fight, but some people are born to endure.





	1. ａ　ｃｈｉｌｄｈｏｏｄ　ｏｆ　ａｂｕｓｅ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a snippet/teaser/background for Antonio and Henrique's relationship. 
> 
> For Candy Cast (Sp, Fr, Pr, Can, Uk, Us and Bel) angst and actual ending, please proceed to the next chapter!

[ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı](http://%C4%B1l%C4%B1.l%C4%B1ll%C4%B1l%C4%B1%C4%B1.%C4%B1ll%C4%B1)

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ  
_virgin veins - coma cinema_

━━━━◉───────  
◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹

[ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı](http://%C4%B1l%C4%B1.l%C4%B1ll%C4%B1l%C4%B1%C4%B1.%C4%B1ll%C4%B1)

" **Henrique!** " the younger brother called.

The elder child didn't bother to look up. He kept on reading on the kitchen counter, double checking his homework just to be sure.

When his younger brother finally reached the kitchen, he took a deep breath and stayed silent.

" **Brother! Look!** "

The numbers seemed to blur. He wasn't really looking at them anymore. Slowly looking up, he came face to face with a drawing made with crappy crayons.

It was Antonio pointing at a cloud shaped like a hand, with him holding a sword and wearing a cape. He slowly glanced to read the words at the bottom, written with a shaky hand.

**_”You_ _are heroe!"_ **

He rolled his eyes and looked back down. He seriously cannot have a half-brother stupid enough to not spell correctly at seven years.

Henrique ignored Antonio, who left the drawing near him and went back to his room. He can still see the wound on Antonio's knee, but he paid no mind.

He looked back at his math homework.

* * *

**"Brother."**

As always, he didn't budge. He kept staring out the window, watching the onion farm he actually loved deep inside. When Antonio started poking his arm, his patience ran low almost immediately.

 **"What?!"** he whisper-yelled, rolling down the car window and willing himself to calm down. Something about Antonio really pisses him off. Probably his resemblance to his mother's new husband.

" **W...why are you so angry?** " Antonio looked at him unsure and tense. " **Why do you hate me? I said sorry about your tennis ball I lost**."

" **Just spit it out. What do you want?** " He looked back out the window, unaffected.

" **When will I come back here? Papa won't tell me,** " the younger boy asked, his voice tinged with innocence and curiosity.

" **So you'll ask me, huh?** " he said. He brought out a pillow and started leaning on to sleep. When he wakes up, it's either on the airport or never.

" **Yes...? So when?** "

Henrique closed his eyes. " **Please don't come back. _Ever,_ if possible.**"

He heard nothing of Antonio since the car conversation up until a decade or so later a.k.a the best and quietest 14 years of his life.

He may have had some thoughts of guilt, but pride is stronger than love and hate for him, just like it had always been.

* * *

" **It's your soup. Dinner's ready.** "

" **Just leave it there.** "

* * *

" **Henrique, the soup is getting cold. Please eat.** "

**"I said I'll eat, alright?! Go back to your room!"**

* * *

" **The soup, Henrique.** "

" **¿Eres tonto o...?!** "

Henrique went back to his work. His boss needed the report at twelve and he's barely halfway done. Antonio knocked again and he heard the door squeak open.

" **Why don't you eat first?** "

He took a deep breath, turning his chair around to the door where Antonio stood holding his tray of soup and bread. It was still weird for him to see that small kid from the onion farm now in his late teens and looking oddly similar to him. Antonio did grow up well in terms of appearance, but that won't change their relationship. He will always be useless and annoying.

Always. _Fucking._ Annoying.

" **I told you all day to just leave the fucking food outside because I'm busy and I can't afford to stall,** " he said, his voice turning up louder than he intended. His anger followed his voice though, and he found himself marching to the doorway with rage.

" **Henri-** "

He grabbed the tray and threw it at the hallway outside, the porcelain crashing into bits and the soup spilling everywhere. Antonio stood frozen, shocked and scared. The older man collared the other and pushed him away.

" **You know what? I was living fine without seeing you for years and now you had the audacity to come back and even live in my house?** "

Antonio...his face...his innocence...his charm...his parents' _favorite....an ASSHOLE!_

" **After you wasted our money on a shit car you crashed? On drugs? Dropped out of college? Who do you think you are?!** "

Antonio stared at him shocked. " **I didn't...do dr-** "

" **You know what, Antonio? Go back to Nana in Spain and just tell her you can't find my house here in Lisbon. And don't you ever return, or make me look at your face ever again!** "

That snapped something in the younger man. " **What in the world did I ever do to you?!** " Antonio pushed him back.

He paused, watching the same rage in his brother's eyes. His fire didn't waver, though.

" **You hated me all my life and now that I made the effort to come back to hopefully make amends, you still hated me?! What kind of person are you?** " A tear fell from his eyes. " **I've been nice to you! I didn't say anything when you pushed me down the stairs at home! When you told me to disappear! When you broke my things! When you bullied me! THIS IS STILL THE WELCOME I GET?!** "

Henrique took a sharp breath and smiled unbelievably. " **Oh, look who's talking?!** " Antonio glared at him, quite less intimidating with a bandage still wrapped around his head. " **Papa, Mama and even I was forced to work our asses off just to afford your education abroad and you crashing your car and doing drugs ARE THE THANKS _WE_ GET!**"

Antonio punched the wall to his left in anger. Henrique paused. " **Oh fucking hell! This isn't even about the motherfucking car! You didn't even pay for that, Papa did! You just hated me because I existed! You're a douchebag, brother! What the _fuck_ do I have to do just for you tO FUCKING FORGIVE ME...?!**"

Antonio reached out and collared him, choking back sobs and kept his anger even with tears prickling his eyes. Henrique stared at him and in a burst of anger, said some unthinkable words.

" **Die in a fire, Antonio. Maybe I'll forgive you by then.** "

That did it. Antonio let go of him and stepped back. He did just cross the line, haven't he? He stared him down before Antonio turned back and ran back downstairs. Henrique ignored the soup puddle and porcelain shards on the hallway and locked himself back into his room.

The next day, he woke up hungry and the guest bedroom empty.

" **Antonio...?** "

It dawned on him. He really crossed the line.

He found himself dialing the landline in Spain just to be sure.

* * *

_virgin veins, hold the rushing pain_

_of a past that cannot die_

_crippling everything in cages of desire_

_the heart is a monument to a childhood of abuse_

_a quiet suffering that knows no one wants you_

_so lonely_

_so ugly_

_and confused_

_\- virgin veins_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: the actual Ep. 5 // Hollow Bread ʕ•ٹ•ʔ. This is just some explanation or teaser whatever. The song is Virgin Veins by Coma Cinema. I liked the last three lines, which I imagine would respectfully refer to Francis, Gilbert and Antonio.


	2. ｓｏｍｅ　ｋｉｄｓ　ｉｎｌｏｖｅ、ｗｈａｔｓ　ｓｏ　ｂａｄ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, Little Antonio found a pile of sad dreams and sad souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hungry. The vendors didn't sell my favorite merenda today. 
> 
> Ep. 4 // "Hollow Bread" // Spain-centric

[ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı](http://%C4%B1l%C4%B1.l%C4%B1ll%C4%B1l%C4%B1%C4%B1.%C4%B1ll%C4%B1)

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ  
_river rocket_

━━━━◉───────  
◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹

[ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı](http://%C4%B1l%C4%B1.l%C4%B1ll%C4%B1l%C4%B1%C4%B1.%C4%B1ll%C4%B1)

Nana Victorina once asked me and my brother about our dreams before. Henrique and I were sitting at the porch with her, watching the onion and tomato fields silently just like what we do every afternoon. Usually, Nana Victorina would just let us be while she was busy picking leaves off the stems of her herbs, so we were shocked when she actually asked us something. Of course, Henrique would be the first to answer. He always knows what to say.

" **I...want to be a policeman someday, Nana.** "

At his answer, Nana smiled and patted his head. She then turned to me, but I wasn't able to answer. Ten-year-old me slowly shook my head and told her I didn't have any dream yet. Henrique looked down at me with a disapproving glare just like he always did. I think he got that look from his real dad.

Right now, I still think of her question. I still think about the concept of dreams in general. I don't know where I'm supposed to go...or what I'm supposed to be. Are dreams limited to the expectation of others, or are you free to pick any possibility in this world and make it your goal? I didn't expect I would carry Nana Victorina's question my entire life. If I said I want to do anything to talk to aliens and made it my dream, would people hate me? Look down on me?

Not too soon after she asked me, my father and I went to the States for his new job opportunity and also, for my education. My mother asked the two of us to frequently call them or send them souvenirs, all the while she cried. Henrique only stared at us. I thought it was just his lack of idea on what to say, but I was soon informed he is actually glad Papa and I were to leave and he doesn't have to see the two of us everyday. He even told me to never come back, and I just had to understand...like I always do.

I was shocked and angry, but I never stay angry for long. After all, my Papa and Mama were the brightest, kindest souls ever to exist who taught me good manners. Well, only if Henrique and I behaved as expected and followed the house rules, they will stay sweet. They were absolute beasts when angry, and I also wondered if Henrique and I were the same as well.

Turns out we are beasts too.

Papa and I moved into this small neighborhood in some quiet state. Our house was mostly wood among cement, and when it was night I let the window open for the moon to shine in. If we were feeling it, dad would cook his iconic paella once a month. We mostly stick to canned goods and cheap take outs for meals. I also get to play tennis by myself in that house, explaining the dents on the wood cabinets and ceilings.

Yes, I do admit it was hard to find friends to play tennis with. Any friend in general. I rarely had the chance to make ones since I was homeschooled in Spain and only our family lives in our vast hacienda. My only friend was my brother, and even _he_ hates me.

But when I do find friends, I do it really well. I met this nice French kid in school, who I share the love of food with. Back then, we were eleven and both from foreign land, and so we met every afternoon and only spoke our native languages just to piss each other off as we eat candy. However, French and Spanish had some similarities. It only taught us how to speak the other language, but it was worth the fun. If it wasn't for that, i won't know that Francis _hated_ saying Otorrinolaringologo. I don't even know what that means!

One day, I brought over some paella and I was shocked to know he lived in the biggest house in town. He is wealthy; I even saw not one but two cars parked at their garage. That doesn't include the motorcycles I also found.

That was also the day I met another friend, Gilbert. He was with Francis at their porch, as this white-haired kid carrying a new skateboard giving him a bunch of candy. I saw a Spanish brand in the pack and I was immediately interested in befriending him.

However, that wasn't the only thing I befriended him for—it was the spark in his eyes that drew me to him. Francis also had the same shine in his eyes I didn't realize before. It was a spark that only people with dreams have. My papa had it, my Nana Victorina had it, many people had it but I don't. And I'm trying to make up for it with the brightest smile I could muster. I believed that if I'm not smiling, people will know I don't have a dream...or a life.

Also, yesーit was also definitely the candy. To be fair, I haven't seen that brand in stores here. Only Gilbert had them.

" _ **Hola!** "_

_" **Oh, you're Mexican?** "_

_"..."_

_" **Just teasing! So....Cuban?** "_

_" **Gil, this is Antonio. He's**_ **Spanis** **h,** _**mon dieu!** "_

That day, our duo became a trio. Gilbert often invites us over at his place for some homework ~~(videogames)~~ while Francis takes care of sleepover nights. It was mostly my responsibility when it comes to food and a quick hangout.

At school, we branded a name for our iconic trio—Candy Clan. Well, that was the first idea. What we actually went with was Bad Touch Trio. It was cooler that way, according to Gil. Even when Francis went back to France for a while, our afternoon hangouts still didn't waver thanks to the internet. Even life soon adjusted because Francis came back.

When some teacher decides to fail one of us, it usually ends up with all three of us failing. When Gil takes us with him to visit Gabriel, everybody ends the day with a huge smile. When Francis gets scolded for losing another of his tennis rackets, I would lend him mine until he bought me one (and so I get new ones every month). And when Francis got his hair cut by bullies at school, Gil and I would cut our hair as well so he won't feel bad before hunting those bastards down. It was our secret system of friendship, and somehow we never had any problem concerning that. It was amazing, to be honest.

Meanwhile, Papa and I managed to afford a better apartment near this one university. He already inquired and was already talking about letting me graduate here instead of at Spain, but it was still Mama and Nana Victorina who had the final say. I also got a new computer, where I learned to illegally download movies in for movie nights.

I was also told at the same year that Nana Victorina was falling ill, and wanted her son to visit sometime. However, Papa was hesitant to leave me alone for weeks. I told him I could come with him and just catch up school work later, but a phone call stopped me from ever agreeing to that.

" **Don't come.** " Henrique said at the phone, his voice deeper than I remember.

That was the first and only thing he said after five years of no communication.

" **Henrique...?** " I asked to be sure. " **I...I called you many times before-** "

" **I watched it ring.** " Then the call ended. I remember trying to contact him more for the next few years, but he never replied nor called back.

Meanwhile, middle school ended. We all went back for highschool, and Francis brought with him this nice guy named Matthew. It was never really awkward with him. He just knew when to be quiet sometimes, and that makes him a great person. And _dios mio_ , Gilbert "local bad boy" Beilschmidt fell inlove right then. I even had to stop a (mock?) fist fight between him and Francis one day. It was hilarious, though! His face was as red as his eyes.

The thing with Gil is that he acts like he isn't bound by the law. He was our bad influence friend, if you may. Francis met him through a fist fight over cafeteria bread, and they used to hate each other until Gil started selling him candy for his brother.

So just imagine my shock when he fell for a literal angel on Earth. Matthew is a straight A student and a strickler for rules, and I was just as confused as everyone else when Gil asked him out publicly once. Oh boy, Gilbert got rejected.

Only that once, though. Matthew said yes to him for the next two times he would ask.

I also tried out for the tennis club and with my middle school experience, I quickly became the captain at my sophomore year. I was able to compete and it was one of the few things I am good at, and I enjoy doing. With my team and vice captain Natalya, we brought home many medals, awards and trophies!

When I win another game (and I do win often), we go to our unspoken routine which goes quite natural. Gil would give me my favorite candy for free, Natalya would congratulate me, Francis would give me crepes, this cute Belgian named Emma who is the campus journalist would take my pictures, and I would either display my medals or send them to Spain for pride. Mama liked it when she receives a new medal every season, and in return she and Papa supported me in my tennis matches.

However, I still don't have a spark of my own. Tennis is fun, but I only play in average. I could never rely on this as a long-term goal, let alone as a living. That year, Nana asked me again and I still can't answer her. She said she'll patiently wait.

She waited way too long, and I salute her for that. I haven't found my dream until I was 24. Additionally, a lot of things happened at the eight years she waited.

> _" **Are you leaving?** "_
> 
> _I smiled and started to let go of her hand. I knew what she did, and I am hurt, but that's okay. I turned around one last time._
> 
> _" **Are you asking me to stay?** " _
> 
> _She didn't answer._

I had my first and only girlfriend, Emma, and lost her.

> _" **If I get on your car, I'm 780% sure I'll die,** " Alfred mumbled as I threw him the car keys before I passed out on the passenger seat drunk._

I also bought a car of my own and lost it too.

> _" **Why should I ask him out?** " I asked nervously, avoiding Lovino's glances as if that would help me forget that I made out with him once. Or twice._
> 
> _" **Because we are in the awesome library where all the awesome books and half-meant flings are kept!** "_

I admit I also became curious and maybe had a thing with the food club president Lovino, and he went back to Italy and I lost him too.

> _" **You know what? Let's just leave.** " Arthur rolled his eyes, frowning at Alfred's feather rain prank on the doorway. Arthur gave him the finger which fueled the successful prankster's laughter more. Francis laughed as he was dragged away by the embarassed British._
> 
> _" **We did**_ **go** **od.** " _Alfred offered his fist, which collided with Gilbert's, his partner-in-crime-and-pranks._

I also met Alfred and Arthur, and lost them as well.

Sometimes, things just don't like to agree with me. When I manage to get a short term dream and work hard for it, I lose it a little too soon after. It was a message that nothing in this cruel Earth is permanent.

It was the third year when my brother called again. He said Papa and I had to return to Spain immediately. I asked why, trying to focus instead of bugging him like I always do.

It was for a funeral.

Mama died.

I felt like the heavens decided to fall on me as if I wasn't already carrying the weight of the world. Papa was the last to hear the news since Henrique still doesn't want to call him directly. I cried hard in my room that night as we booked the next flight to Madrid. It felt as if the only person connecting me to Henrique was taken from my dead hands. As if I was left alone forever with no mother to watch over me anymore. Nana herself is also ill and I became even more worried for the future. It came to the point I started dissociating from reality from overthinking. It isn't a pleasant experience.

> _" **Why are all your tv channels French?** " Gilbert frowned at the large TV screen, flipping channels with the remote._
> 
> _" **Because I'm French...?** "_
> 
> _" **We don't understand that!** " Alfred, Gilbert and Arthur chorused, making Francis jump. Another camera shutter is heard from Natalya along with Matthew's snickering._

But I am not completely alone. I still had my friends whose eyes screamed they knew what they will spend the rest of their lives doing. Gil would come back to Germany with Gabriel after he graduates. Francis wanted to travel the world. Natalya just wanted to see her family again and come home to Russia. Arthur wanted to be a secret agent, or at least that's what he told me whilst drunk. Meanwhile, Matthew wanted to be a pilot and finally, Alfred wanted to work at New York.

It was a different kind of pain when Francis heard I would be leaving and then told the others. The throbbing wound on my forehead from the car crash still hurts, but my chest hurts worse. My throat felt as if it was wearing a necklace of thorns, and I did my best to show my signature shit-eating grin to stop my tears.

" **Why~?** " Francis cried dramatically, but the way he hugged me said it was genuine. " **We're all graduating next year!** "

I said the only lie I remember telling. " **Just some financial problems. I'll keep in touch, though!** "

I don't have the heart to tell them that their Antonio " _Mr. Best Smile and Most Cheerful in the yearbook_ " Fernandez Carriedo is sad. They already are sad with their own lives, why should I make my problem theirs as well?

I caught Natalya on my last night. She would coincidentally be leaving too, resulting in a much worse crying session with everyone.

" **Nothing fueled by love can be bad,** " she said. In her eyes, I can see the moon reflecting and I never envied something so much. My tears fell beyond my control and I wailed like the child I wasーthe useless little child I always was. Henrique was right, I was weak.

I cried hard on Natalya as if she was my mother, and if it wasn't for her small figure it would feel like it really was Mama. I don't know if she knew about the truth of my leave, but I do know that she's sad either way.

I left the next day. I saw the onion farm I loved and saw Nana on the porch still sitting on her chair. I cried on the spot and she held me.

The funeral was set on a nice hill. Mama's name was engraved in gold, and Nana Victorina cried along with me. What made it hurt more was seeing Henrique once again. He was taller, but we looked just like Mama and each other. He also had a girl of his own, who he never bothered to introduce to me: Alice, if memory serves right.

Papa himself decided to quit his job and just find one locally. Also, to take care of Nana Victorina who wasn't faring well herself. I was then sent to Portugal all by myself to live with Henrique while I continue my degree here instead.

At my 4-day stay at Lisbon, I had to accept the bitter truth. No matter what I do, Henrique will hate me and my guts. I learned to hate, but when I returned to Madrid, I broke down in tears on the porch right on Nana Victorina's lap for the second time. All I wanted was to have a family that will love me, and I was one step away from achieving that when it just refused to work.

I spent my days studying at a nearby college, all the while checking on Alfred and Arthur while I help in our onion and tomato fields. I also introduced them to my Nana Victorina who they found lovely.

But then I graduated. I left. I returned.

I cried on Nana's lap for the third and last time. She knew, even just by my sobs, that it was because I lost something because that is the only reason I ever cried in my life. I lost my favorite handball, I lost my superhero comic, I lost my sense of life, I lost my mother then I lost my friends. It was a pain that I never learned to accept that nothing will stay by me forever.

To my surprise, Henrique was on our hacienda for vacation and heard my breakdown. I didn't expect him to do or say anything and he, in fact, didn't. He did place a bowl of soup in my nightstand before he left, though. It was the same flavor of soup I made for him back in Lisbon. It was...an unpleasant memory.

Overall, it was an empty feeling. However, I knew someone whose heart feels heavier than mine.

Gabriel also passed away, and for once I didn't know what to say to Gil. He and Matthew also broke up for the sake of their sanity. Gil loved the world more than he loves himself, for he hoped the world would love him back. I was afraid I'd lost him too, but I realized he already lost himself.

But I believe he is working on finding himself back, and I was glad he still had his spark.

Francis stayed at Germany to make sure Gil's okay before he stayed with me for a while. We both managed the farm in Henrique's absence for a business trip.

But Francis himself is, if not more, just as sad as we. It's not just Gil or your dearest Antonio, it was all of us. Francis never had a lot of girlfriends before, in fact, actually none. All he ever wanted to be with was Arthur, and now he lost him too. He even takes care of Matthew and Gil's relationship as if he cannot do so with his own life because he really can't.

Maybe because he saw himself and Arthur in them, or maybe not. I will never know. Francis is not a man of words, and neither am I. But I see how he sits at the porch sipping the tea Arthur used to make for him. I see how he stares at our photos in his phone and just tears up.

I kept being his friend. Not because of the sake of being kind, but because I want to and I'm willing. I started making him the tea so he won't have to. I take him to tours around the city and have him try lots of food, which is the very thing that we shared ever since the beginning. He was getting better, and it worked well for the both of us to the point we can finally visit Gabriel, Mama and Arthur without apologizing to the headstone and blaming ourselves. Once, we three went to Sweden and met Alfred's dad too.

Every new season, we visit Germany for Gil who is trying just as hard to live a new life. One of our best hangouts by then would be the Arlovskaya-Braginski pastry shops that opened all around Europe. Shop after shop were opened in just two years, and it blew up into a trendy franchise before we knew it. Francis and I often buy bread and tarts at them, but we never let Natalya know. We do, however, keep in touch once in a while.

It was a nice winter in Germany when we all lit up our cigarettes and sat at the roof of Gil's little apartment. He brought out some cheap bread and candy with him, and gave us some old coats that smelled just like a home. Gil was doing better and he even fattened up a bit and seemed healthier, and it still shocked the both of us that he was back with the love of his life.

Good lord, Francis and I almost fell from the building in shock when Matthew appeared right behind us.

Matthew himself pursued his dream and actually became a pilot. He and Gil were back together after two years of separation and healing. I can't quite understand when or how, but they somehow worked. I remember back then, Gil was always the one that treats Matthew things but this time around, Matthew is now the one with the better source of income and wants to support the two of them. Gil himself works as some sort of engineer and had a decent income of his own, but nobody can stop a determined Matthew anyway.

The Canadian himself also visited Russia and had a small reunion with Natalya, who he described as "scarier than ever".

> _" **She said she missed you guys. Why don't you visit her at least once?** " he asked._
> 
> _" **Because we have a secret-** "_
> 
> _" **I'm asking Gil, not you.** " Matthew pouted at his cousin and smacked him in the face. I can't help but snicker to myself because nobody brave enough could just smack Francis on his skincare-insured face._
> 
> _" **Hey! I have a name, you know!** "_
> 
> _" **Which we think is hard to pronounce,** " I can't help but provide._

On my trip back to Madrid that season, I kept thinking about my own dream. I just turned 24 and I was still young, so career hunting may be worth a shot. But then I saw Matthew leaning on Gil as they chewed on the bread, and Francis who hummed in delight as he ate the candies. Even if Matthew is speaking of his boring flights experience and Francis is still working out things with his romantic life, they were content on the taste of bread and the presence of one another.

It was the power of food. Call me crazy or whatever, but that was the moment I had my own spark. Just because of cheap bread Gil bought that day at some vendor.

I went home to Nana Victorina a few days later and as I prepare some soup for the cold rainy night, she asked me her question once again. I set the table and tasted my soup and finally, I had a clear, solid answer.

" **I want to cook, Nana.** "

She grinned, and even with her age it was still the same smile she had when she asked us the first time. She motioned me over and patted my head, just like what she did when Henrique answered.

" **I want to be a chef.** "

It all made sense. It was as if the cloud of lies and confusion is cleared and the rainbow appeared post-rain. I told Papa and Mama my dream and I couldn't find it in myself to not tell Henrique too. I just felt like I had to, even if I had a gut feeling he would hang up anyway.

But when I called, he didn't.

" **What?** " he asked, groggily. He must not have read the call ID when he answered.

" **Henrique, I want to be a chef.** "

There was silence on the other line. Nana smiled at me as she urged me to go on.

" **O...kay?** " Henrique answered, without any tone of anger, annoyance or irritation. " **Antonio?** "

" **Y-yes?** "

" **Check your mail, won't you?** " Then he hang up. Despite that, I still came sprinting outside and opened the old mailbox which started to rust. Inside, there was a letter.

_You are cordially invited to the christening of Apollo and Antonio Lisboa-Carriedo!_

That is the only time I cussed out loud in front of my grandmother. I couldn't believe it. I had so many questions and so many emotions, but I am glad I had that invitation to hold on to than nothing. Don't get me wrong, I still had some bad memories with him and hated what he did, but I chose to focus on the future I once feared.

I attended the christening and met the two lovely kids. I even get to hold Mini Antonio on the family picture. That day, Henrique and I prayed together on the pews just like how we used to do it. When we finished, he apologized in the most sincere and quiet tone I could ever hear from anyone. In front of God.

" **I'm sorry, Antonio.** "

" **Henrique, _what-_** _"_

" **I'm...sorry...** "

He embraced me like there was no tomorrow. He spilled out his regrets and his uncertainties and anger issues, and hated himself for it. It seemed being a married man and dad really changed his perspective, or maybe it was just him before all the mess happened. Either way, I forgave him. The kids deserve knowing that their dad and uncle were on good terms.

" **Because I am the older brother. I apologize for not being good at it until now....I'm sorry, I'm sorry,** " he sobbed.

That didn't even end there. I started became the all-around Uncle and Godparent Antonio™ around the time I was studying culinary arts. Francis had a kid of his own with his own soulmate he was saving himself for, Jeanne. I had to deal with triplets right on the spot, but I've never seen Francis been happier. The only female in the trio was named after Matthew, and it was the most adorable kid I've ever seen. I salute Jeanne and Alice for changing people ~~since the 1600's~~.

Happy streaks don't exist, though. There is no such thing as an all-time low rollercoaster. Our group of five became four.

I was woken up on the day of my interview by a phonecall from Germany. Gilbert called and said two things.

" _ **Mattie's dead.**_ "

The news on the telivision read, _This just in: the flight XX753 from London to Narita crash landed in-_ before I had to close it and walk around aimlessly.

Matthew did die. That makes it all come back. The begging screams of Alfred's mother on the ambulance, and Arthur's 5-year-old brother staring at his body in confusion and asking him to wake up. As well as Gilbert's rampage in the hospital corridor when the doctor informed him of Gabriel's passing. How Francis and Natalya stared into air in silence and trying to hide tears of their own. How Mama laid there peacefully as she was lowered to the earth. Before I knew it, I cried once again.

I never thought I had to face another funeral. The black tents, the white clothes, the odd dead smell of flowers, the atmosphere of respect and grief....all of it. Natalya and Francis came to Germany, too.

In that night, as we spent the post-funeral hours in one of the Arlovskaya-Braginski pastry shops, we saw a new bulletin board with photos I also had in my room.

 _Presenting: the Candy Cast_  
_est. 2017_

Francis, Gilbert, Natalya and I stared at the collage of photos in silence. There was a shot by Emma from the school dance with all of us in it. There was also a smiling picture of Arthur as he held the first place certificate on a Spoken Poetry contest. Don't even miss a shaky selfie of 13-year-old me with Natalya, Francis, Gilbert and Mattie in the background. Other shots were probably taken on our parents' social media because we were literally kids in diapers in some. At the shelf at the bottom of the glass-encased board were three plates filled with candy immortalized as a display.

_Orange tarts for Al_

_Cherry lollipops for Art_

_Maple tarts for Matt_

Gil reached out to the glass first, before Francis' hand went to stay atop his. Natalya and I followed, as if it was a silent vow or agreement that we will live for those who cannot.

" **Why the fuck are you touching my hand?** "

The laughter broke the tense moment for a while before Gil kneeled and laid his head against the glass in front of Matthew's plate. I kept the name of the place as a remembrance, I knew I'll need it later.

Dusk became dawn, and for a year I started interning at this one shop that's called Arlovskaya-Braginski. I was accepted, and in a span of a few months or maybe years of healing, I became the head chef of that one branch. I paid for Nana's medication until she passed away in peace, and with this dream I held on to, I knew she is proud of me forever and ever.

I was 27 when I saved enough to revive our onion and tomato farm in Spain, and with the extra income I get from our business in there, I get to travel and visit friends from time to time. It became a routine every break I get: Spain for Mama and Nana, Germany for Matthew, Gabriel and Gil, Russia for Natalya, France for Francis and his adorable family, Portugal for Henrique and the playful kids and finally, Britain to visit Arthur's family. I became quite fond of Peter Kirkland, the youngest, and he might as well be my unofficial godson if his brothers weren't so intimidating. They recognized me as their sister's in-law. I tried to act as if I didn't know Alice.

I never married. I just don't feel like I have to. At least, not yet. I gave all my love and passion to my friends, their kids and my career as a chef. When I pitched in this new recipe to the CEO of the brand, Natalya tried her best to act both as the boss and a stable one. My years of not telling her where I work paid offーthe shock on her face is priceless. After the meeting, she launched to embrace me and at the same time, strangle me. Either way, I made it out alive past her and her even scarier fiance and even even scarier brother.

Good lord, Russians are quite terrifying.

I spent some time with Gil after that pitch. I helped him move in to his new apartment, a better one, and settle in. We never talked much, but I see how he wore a ring I remember Matthew wore once. I see how he used Matthew's photos to decorate his mantle and even had his many dogs recognize the face. I learned to love the concept of loyalty. Had Gilbert even knew just how pure his heart is? Even with all his cruel pranks and loud voice?

My last godchild came into existence a few months after Natalya Arlovskaya became Natalya Something-Else-Russian (I didn't know the name of the guy, but I'm pretty sure he passed Gil and Francis' standards so he's fine).

Francis and I appeared on the church wedding with Francis and Emma as the Witnesses, or the Best Man and the Maid of Honor. I was surprised to see Emma there with her husband, and that one adorable son of his. I see her kid as a potential godson since Emma and I were on good terms for the past few years. Francis gave the most dramatic speech ever known to the history of Best Man speeches, while I stayed back being that one adult who is watching over the kids even if nobody asked me to. Gil, however, couldn't attend since he was in Canada with the Williams and all flights are booked.

He made it to Mini Natalya's christening, though! The baby girl of the family is born and the three of us never passed the opportunity to be uncles...again. However, we weren't sent a formal invitation because Natalya had us guess on who she named her baby girl afterーwhether it would be Francis, Gil, me, Alfred, Arthur or maybe even after herself. I had a gut feeling it had something to do with the candy she eats when she's craving while pregnant, and so I was right.

_Welcome to the world, Мишка Цандице!_

Mishka Candice is one scary kid, even as a baby. She definitely inherited her mother's angry glare and doesn't want to be held by anybody. However, I still liked the backstory of her name. Gilbert won the betーNatalya named Mishka after him.

So, if Natalya made Francis her Best Man and named her kid after Gil, what could she have in store for me? Mishka's babysitter on weekends, of course.

Years went on, and I lived. I had a dream and it might not be a straight or even a clear road, but I reached stability before I knew it. I bought myself a nice house in Spain and often had Henrique and his family over during summer vacations. I also became the International Babysitter™ and Godparent™ when Francis and Natalya had me watch over their kids at get-togethers.

I loved the sparkles the kids had in the eyes, especially Apollo who may be born with poor eyesight, but still had a heart and mindset as pure and clear as a diamond. I love the triplet's unity and sense of identity and self. Mishka herself also grew to be fond of his Uncle Antonions and my "tomato face", whatever it was.

All I can say is that I lived. I lived for my friends. For my family. For myself. I took Alfred's stance to problems and faced the future I feared. I took Arthur's ambition and determination and worked hard to reach the goal I set for myself. I recreated Matthew's unconditional and everlasting love for his friends and their quite annoying but loving souls. I watched over my friends and made sure no one will fall this time.

Here's to Alfred, who told me that he would love to eat my family's paella sometime after a small taste.

Here's to Arthur, who is actually the one who taught me how to make fruit tarts in cooking class in highschool.

Here's to Francis, who encouraged me in everything I could possibly want in life in the sweetest way possible on the history of candy.

Here's to Natalya, who cared more about us than we care about ourselves like stopping us when we had too much lollipops in one sitting.

Here's to Matthew who's patience, tolerance and love outweighs all sugar in the world combined.

And Gilbert who, despite every obstacle he encounters, always stood up and sweetly smiles and comes by.

They were just like candy. Sweet, little cute entities of sugar with a hint of sharpness and danger. Some people may be born to fight, but some people are born to endure.

I was right, nothing in this world is permanent. Nobody would stay by me and never get lost. But you know what I did? I chose to be kind either way. I was right that nobody would stay, but it made me realize that there _is_ someone: myself.

* * *

" **I used to like candy, but bread could be a nice change I could get used to. I lived a long life. Not one second was wasted.** " The kids blinked at me, including the three Bonnefoys who were tugging at my shirt. Apollo and Antonio were napping with Henrique and Alice at our camp at the end of the bridge.

" **Really, Uncle 'Tonio?** " Mishka asked, patting my cheeks until I get her attention.

" **Yes!** " I nodded, giving her more bread made by me from their shop. I can almost feel Natalya's death threat as I give Mishka more food to eat she won't be able to sleep. The kid smiled, biting and chewing on the pastry. Anything for that content smile, yeah?

" **Uncle Tonio?** "

" **Yes?** "

" **Will you tell me about Uncle Matthew and Uncle Gilbert sometime?** "

I heard Gil pause from throwing rocks beside me, before he turned to smile and look back down at the mention of his lover's name. He nodded, looking forward fondly.

" **Yeah! Maybe next time, Mishka.** "

Well, only time would tell.

* * *

_we're fuckin sailing_

_and we won't ever die_

_you just have to remember that we're all here for a purpose_

_and the universe picks it's time_

_everything,_

_everywhere_

_matters_

_to everything._

_\- river rocket_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact 1: Mishka is like "Honey".  
> Fact 2: I regret nothing. Yes, I did exist to make people suffer.  
> Fact 3: My favorite candy is the chewing gum, but it hurts chewing on them. Despite not particularly liking them, I did grow up eating gummy candies and melt-in-the-mouth mints instead.  
> Fact 4: The song is "River Rocket" from the movie Swiss Army Man, and that movie had seen hell and ended up in heaven. 
> 
> THANKS FOR MAKING IT TO THE END! Comments and my media inboxes are open for feedback, anytime! I broke my own heart and sleeping routine for this and it was worth it. Thank you for reading, wonderful reader. I love you so much, smile because you lived. 
> 
> Tumblr // Twitter: @hanihyunsu


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